


fuck you unitied airlines

by Tillipagoo (orphan_account)



Category: Amelie: A New Musical (Broadway Cast) RPF, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: F/M, I KNOW HE'S GAY, I SWEAR TO GOD IF SOMEONE USES THIS TO BE LIKE "HOMOPHOBE", I WILL INTRODUCE YOU TO MY GAY ASS FRIEND GROUP AND IMAGINARY GIRLFRIEND, IT'S JUST FLUFF THEY DON'T EVEN MAKE S CLEAR RELATIONSHIP OUT IN THIS, THANKS THO, what's editing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:55:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Tillipagoo
Summary: It's just a Pippa Adam drabble about Pippa working her ass off. I wrote it quickly, and didn't have much time to edit before I promised it'd be out. So this is pretty crappy first draft stuff, but we need fanfiction so here.And look at the tags. I know he's gay.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it sucks so bad

Amelie Broadway rehearsals.

 

How. Fucking. Exciting.

 

I’m not trying to be sarcastic, but I stayed up until past midnight watching the Super Bowl because my costar, stuck at the actual Super Bowl, was texting me about how boring it was and how she’d rather be kept up with a Broadway musical, and a Netflix binge instead.

 

She called me drunkenly after the game ended.

 

It took her a second too late to talk, so I started for her. “How was your performance, little Miss Super Bowl.”

 

“I swear I was gonna puke multiple times,” she practically yelled. “How was the game Mr. Quincampoix?”

 

“I also swear I was gonna puke multiple times,” I yelled back. “Are you seriously gonna make it to rehearsals in the morning?”

 

“What’ya mean?”

 

“Your words slur together when you’re a little too drunk, that’s what’s happening right now.”

 

She paused. “Shit! I’m about to get on a plane, I better not be  _ that _ fucking drunk. God, I knew I should’ve left after half time.”

 

I laughed. “You’re insane Pippa, stay in Houston for tonight, come to rehearsal on Tuesday. It’s not like Pam will be mad at you for skipping after your big day. Get some rest love.”

 

“Nu-uh, no way I’m letting you reunite with the cast without me. I don’t want to be late to hearing about Randy’s adventures in France.”

 

“He went to Japan.”

 

“Close enough. I already checked out of my hotel and my bags are literally on the bus we came in, I want to be back in New York by morning. The flight’s only a few hours anyway--”

 

“You lose an hour coming back, you barely sleep on planes, and you get jetlagged when the flight is and hour,” I pointed out. “Just stay in Houston.”

 

“You can’t stop me. I’m hanging up, bye Addie.”

 

“No you just can’t--”

 

She did.

 

So I opened Google and started searching.

 

_ Hangover cures that actually work _

 

**_Water_ **

**_Sprite_ **

**_Ginger or Peppermint Tea_ **

 

“Asparagus? Who the fuck thought of that?” I mumbled to myself.

 

I knew how to get into her apartment, or rather  _ penthouse _ , so it was in my best interest to help her out, locate aspirin, put out water and stuff to make tea in the morning. Maybe a note for my deeds, and a clear exit from the bedroom to the connecting bathroom.

 

It seemed easy enough until I found myself starting her laundry and taking out the trash. Her house wasn’t dirty, per say, but it was messier than I’d ever see it when she invited company over. Much more clutter, and rotten bananas. It was nearing 1 o’clock when I realized just how creepy I was being, and that she’d be home a few hours from then if she found her way from the airport here.

 

I took another glance at her place and saw a picture framed, I hadn’t noticed before. It was from the LA run of Amelie, a picture featuring her and I standing in the photo both as Alyse can be seen on the side with some more of the cast during the final parts of the show.

It was my favorite part, cliche and all. The happy ending we all need when it comes to Broadway. By this time I’m starving half to death, and she is too.  _ Not for each other, but for actual food _ .

 

_ Sure, food. _

 

I picked up the picture and put it next to the note I’ve written. I turned off the lights and stepped into the elevator knowing the next day would be one hell of a day for both of us. Mostly her though, the girl who sang  _ Take a Break _ for two years. Who caught her big break without taking that break

  
  


Back to the rehearsals I was talking about.

 

They went as expected. I walked in on five hours of sleep and Maria looked at me like I was some sort of zombie. “Wait til you see the ‘artist’,” I joked.

 

“Oh shit, you’re right. She just got back from Texas.”

 

“Yup, like four hours ago.”

 

“Poor thing, spreading herself thin over all this. She’s gonna have permanent worry lines before thirty, I swear.”

 

“Gosh I hope not,” Pippa cut in, making her presence known.

 

“Hey girl,” Maria said when she hugged her. 

 

Coming in over the sound of Pippa’s laugh was a crash, that was most likely Randy and Savvy. Maria turned her head to the direction of the noise then back at Pippa. “I’ll talk to them, you should talk to the man who shares your lack of sleep.”

 

Pippa rolled her eyes as Maria walked away. And turned to sign in on the sign-in sheet.

 

“Hey how’s my favorite Amelie?” I said, inching towards her.

 

“Don’t let Alyse hear you, you might lose a friend.”

 

“Well if it’s worth anything, she’s my favorite Georgette out of the two of you.”

 

“Mhm, what about Samantha Barks? Is she your favorite Georgette?”

 

“Why not at all.”

 

“Quite of relief considering neither of us have ever played Georgette,” she affirmed, as we walked to where she could put her bag down.

 

I nodded at her statement before changing the subject, “How was your flight?”

 

“I got lucky, mine wasn’t canceled.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“And I got to watch Bob’s Burgers the whole time. It was pretty solid.” She smiled up at me as she sat on a chair and took off her boots. “Thanks for breaking into my apartment by the way. I tripped over the lack of laundry on the floor of my bedroom, but I did appreciate the blue taped arrows leading my drunk ass to the bathroom.”

 

“Thought you could use a little guidance after that phone call last night. How’s your hangover?”

 

“It’s not too bad, I did what your card said, don’t worry. I didn’t find the ‘try doing it without sunglasses’ part amusing, that’s a safety hazard.”

 

I laughed at her but she glared at me. “I knew it! You were trying to kill me, someone breaking into your apartment past midnight is never a good thing, especially in New York. I’m changing my code.”

 

“You’re gonna tell me as soon as you're drunk enough to have ‘pregnancy cravings’ and want me to be the delivery man.”

 

“Whatever, you’re just jealous I run perfectly fine on three hours of sleep.”

 

“Honey, that’s nothing I could be jealous of. Don’t worry though, I’ll get you to nap before you throw your big temper tantrum.”

 

“I could use nap.”

 

“Just try to get through two hours, and then my lap is your pillow.”

 

“Very dreamy Mr. Quincampoix, but I prefer David’s shoulder.”

  
“David can find his own Amelie to nap on him. This one here was brought to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I cringe while reading this but I didn't have time to rewrite the whole idea, so this is what you get for now.
> 
> If you want to reach me better, DM me on instagram, @tillipagoo.
> 
> Favorites, kudos, comments, and bookmarks are appreciated, I just don't know how they work, whoops.


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